


Aria

by boxparade



Series: All Our Yesterdays: The Codas [8]
Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Introspection, Kid Fic, M/M, Military, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 09:00:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxparade/pseuds/boxparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aria

There’s a moment. It’s the moment when everything falls into place, and suddenly all is calm. It’s when he realizes just how much of a mess his life was before that moment, seeing the entire world shift seamlessly from chaos into contentment. It doesn’t happen to him very often—Brendon has too much energy, most days. He doesn’t notice the chaos; just keeps going and going and never stopping, because if he stops, he fears he might not start again.

But rarely, on occasion, there’s a moment. It’s the day he met Spencer, when every single love-at-first-sight cliché in the book started setting off his warning bells that he couldn’t hear.

It’s their wedding day, that second after Brendon said “I do” and for the first time, felt the weight of those words weighing down on his shoulders, like it was too much, only to realize that he didn’t have to hold it up alone anymore.

It’s the moment each of his children was born, that single moment where the headache disappeared and the coffee stopped making him twitch and the lights didn’t blur in his sleep-heavy eyes. A moment of clarity, when every star in the universe somehow made sense, coming together for a single purpose, on that day and in that minute.

It’s when he realized—actually understood—that Spencer was alive. Home. Here. When the breath flew right out of him and he remembered how it felt to have his heart beat so fast in his chest, like this was still new and impossible and perfect.

And it’s this moment, right here, waking up to the sunlight pouring in through the window, casting deep shadows on everything in sight, highlighting the tip of Spencer’s nose and the shine of his lips. Because he realizes, quite abruptly, that he has a home here. He built a home, and a life, and it’s right here in front of him, with no one standing over his shoulder to tell him that this isn’t something he should have, or want.

He spent so many years trying to justify his choices to people, saying “This is what I want” and “This is what I’m going to be” but never finding a single person who believed him. Not until he met Spencer.

And now he’s here, and he has everything he wanted and so much more, and he is exactly who he was hoping to be, and this would be his proof, if he had anyone he still wanted to prove it to. But maybe that’s a part of the deal; his dreams come true, but he doesn’t get to prove anyone wrong, or say “I told you so” because that’s not something he’s meant to do. He’s not meant to turn all of this into a bargaining chip, make it mean less than it means, because to him, it’s everything. It may not be everything to anyone else, but this right here—Spencer, Jake, Emily, them—they’re everything. And he can’t lose them.

So instead of breaking the moment—getting up and starting the day, going through the motions, slowly forgetting that this little epiphany ever happened—he smiles and curls back around Spencer, closing his eyes and breathing in the sunlight and the warmth and his husband and their life.

In a few hours, someone will come stomping in, demanding cartoons, pancakes, ponies, and the moon—or any combination thereof—and Brendon will groan and smile and tickle his children senseless until Spencer wakes and joins the fun. And then they’ll all get up and fight over the remote control, make an utter mess of the kitchen, crush their children’s hopes and dreams of riding ponies on the moon, and Brendon will slowly forget all about this morning, in the moment before the day.

But it’s okay. He’ll forget, and move on with his life, and he’ll never know this moment even existed. But it’s okay, because there’s a part of him, somewhere, that knows anyway—knows exactly how lucky he is. Knows that this—what he takes for granted most days—this is everything.

This is sacred, and no one or nothing can ever change that.

Brendon smiles and lets himself drift off again.

**Author's Note:**

> "Aria" means "air" in Italian.
> 
> This is just a little ditty I wrote working on no sleep and no sustenance, after one of those moments where everything feels so much bigger than it is.


End file.
